


Steeplechase

by littlerumbird



Series: Interstellar Oceans [7]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlerumbird/pseuds/littlerumbird
Summary: Set during the events of Manhunt and addresses a missing scene after Lwaxana announces her engagement to Commander Riker. Deanna Troi is never-- ever-- prepared for her mother to arrive.
Series: Interstellar Oceans [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026340
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Steeplechase

Deanna Troi is never—ever—prepared for her mother to arrive. It occurs to her that even if she knew her mother was planning to arrive, there would be no way to prepare. She’s never been able to predict what her mother will do next. Or say next. After twenty-nine years, she feels like she should know her own mother better. Be able to anticipate something, anything with her mother around.

The only thing that is certain with Lwaxana Troi is that the unexpected will usually happen.

Will and the Captain are in their dress uniforms, as befits receiving an ambassador. Deanna is acutely aware that her mother is, despite her flair and extravagant manner, a good diplomat. But Deanna is not about to indulge her mother’s love of pomp and ceremony with her own dress uniform. As a Daughter of the Fifth House, she will invoke her own right to dress however she pleases.

She should’ve known something was amiss as soon as her mother asked _Jean-Luc_ to carry her luggage. It’s not only the informality of the Captain’s first name in that request that chafes Deanna. There’s something more at play, and she will later regret that it takes her so long to put the pieces together. It was something of a feat of strength, of Lwaxana sizing up the options from the very moment she stepped off of the transporter platform.

And, of course, Will had to be both an officer _and_ a gentleman and step in. Later, Deanna will wonder if things would’ve turned out quite the same way had Will not taken it upon himself to insist on carrying the absurdly too large and over-packed luggage. It’s a monstrosity that Lwaxana Troi takes pride in. Her mother definitely hates transporters. And she has a horror of replicators.

Deanna is aware that Will is going to pay for his gesture later—either trying to ignore the ache in his back all during shift or he will slink down to sickbay and try to get one of the nurses to quietly treat it. It won’t work. Kate Pulaski seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to senior staff in her sickbay. She won’t lecture him like Beverly would’ve. But she’ll tut at him and patch him up. Admittedly, Will is hard to miss in any room—particularly when he’s really hurting, which turns him into a bear with thorn in its paw.

It was bad enough that her mother pursued the Captain. Lwaxana’s always gotten a thrill out of teasing and prodding him. Within the first hour of her mother’s arrival, Deanna put the edges of the puzzle together. She could feel the shift in her mother’s focus, which was a polite term for the building urges that were as obvious to Deanna as Red Alert klaxons.

It’s her mother’s comment that the captain is as charming as her father that unnerves her. And she cannot and will not stop herself from confronting Lwaxana about it. It angers her the way her mother is brushing this all off.

As though it wasn’t significant.

As though it’s a game.

As though this isn’t Deanna’s world. Her professional life.

As though this isn’t a time when her mother should be far more cautious than ever.

Many a Betazoid has come out the other side of The Phase with regrets. Some have left Betazoid society over the aftermath of their actions during such a time. Their society is permissive and understanding, but Lwaxana is something like royalty. And acting as an official representative and there are roles she must still uphold.

She thought she has covered her bases, as Will would say. It was too easy to simply send the Captain off to an unreachable, fictional world in the holodeck. Deanna can handle the small eruption of Mount St Lwaxana. But the “other plan” is even more unsettling. Because her mother isn’t sharing, and she can’t possibly imagine what that might be. What poor, unsuspecting other soul that her mother is setting her sights on. A small part of her wishes it could be Mr. Homn. Mr. Homn would be convenient, but if that were the case her mother would’ve already made that choice.

This was no child’s game, nor mere entertainment. Lwaxana Troi was being driven by physiology. And she was nothing, if not highly adaptable.

It should have been taboo.

Deanna objects, strongly. Adamantly. _Not him!_ But Deanna can’t find a vocabulary, spoken or telepathic, to answer why not. Because. Because it’s him. And in any case, that should’ve ended anything and everything for her mother right there. Full stop.

But there is absolutely no stopping her mother. She shouldn’t have even been on the bridge in the first place. And now, now… Not only is her mother looking _him_ up and down, but she’s sitting in Will’s seat. Her fingers are twitching with the formation of a plan, and Deanna is uncomfortable in her own chair. She’s on edge. And a headache is building as she tries to tease out what in all the galaxies her mother is doing.

Praying her sights aren’t going to be set on some poor, unsuspecting other. Like Wesley Crusher sitting in front of them. _Four Deities, No!_ she begs.

But things go into motion faster than she could’ve expected. It’s like a ship wrecking simultaneously in a second and also in slow motion. And Deanna can’t object fast enough and can’t look away. She barely breathes out a _no._ But that word seems to mean nothing to her mother. She wants to scream it. To stamp her foot on the deck and protest. To command Worf to lock her mother up in the brig for all their sakes. But the words are caught in her throat.

And when Deanna finally has the presence of mind to act, a hand on her forearm stops her short. It’s Will. He’s never once stopped her like this before. The gesture is all First Officer. And she’s so angry that her words are barbed. She knows she’s the coward, not Will. She should’ve shut this down hours ago because somebody absolutely has to put some boundaries on her mother.

Later, Deanna will be thankful that Data uncharacteristically steps between them with his strange request for a delay before finding the captain. It prevents her from indulging in the number of acerbic comments on the tip of her tongue. Things she might regret having said on the bridge later.

“Ready Room,” Will says calmly but firmly as Data disappears into the turbo lift. It’s not a request, and his head nods toward the door indicating he’s waiting on her.

Deanna Troi has already been an indirect party to one scene today, and she’s not able to be part of another. Not on the bridge, not among the alpha shift she regularly serves with—and the way gossip travels, all the other shifts will know within a day. So she marches toward the ready room, barely restraining herself from stomping her way there. As soon as the door shuts as Will passes through, she whirls on him. “Why didn’t you _stop_ her? She’s completely out of control, and she’s embarrassing herself.”

“She’s embarrassing _you_ ,” Will answered quietly, his voice at the pitch she uses in her professional role. “And I’m sorry for that, but any further attempt to address the issue in front of the crew isn’t going to help matters.” He moves to the captain’s desk and leans against the edge of it.

Her arms are folded across her chest, shoulders tense, and she feels like a thundercloud. Or maybe that’s simply the turmoil in her mind and emotions. She wants to scream, but settles for stomping her foot childishly. When he didn’t react and didn’t add anything further, Deanna took a breath and began to deflate. “She’s on a self-destruct sequence.”

When she took the half step forward, his hand reached out to wrap around her upper arm and guide her slowly but steadily in until she pressed her head against his chest. “I want a nap,” she mumbled into his chest. His broad hand was cupping the back of her head, the way he knew made her feel protected. And when his thumb stroked soothingly over her temple, she felt the emotions she’d been fighting all day well over.

“It’s easier to be angry at her,” Deanna protested, trembling with the intensity of all of the feelings hitting at once.

“I can relieve you of duty,” it was a serious offer, given at face value. This was both her dearest friend on board and First Officer talking. When she didn’t answer for a long moment, he added, “You haven’t taken leave in a while. And we don’t anticipate any diplomatic duties until everyone beams down at Pacifica anyway.”

She nodded and sniffed, relaxing against him for a few extra moments and reveling in letting his touch soothe her. “You should, please,” she requested, taking the offer that would both let her save face with the crew and give herself some time to get things under better control. “And I’m a mess,” Deanna added, finally pulling away and running her fingers under her eyes to catch the last of her tears.

“You’re someone dealing with a lot of things she didn’t ask for and a very capable counselor,” Will corrected, his voice firm and allowing no objections from her.

“I’m still a little angry at her,” she admitted, glancing over her shoulder at the still-closed door leading to the bridge. “It’s primitive, but I feel it was wrong for her to set her sights on you. You should’ve been off limits.” She sniffed and wiped more of the tears from her cheeks again.

“Does it bother you more that _she_ is planning to marry me, or that you weren’t the one making those plans?”

The question is pushing the limits of what, exactly, is and is not his business. “We’re both adults who have had our fair share of relationships with other people.” She was hedging and his raised eyebrows and silence let her know that he was aware of this. “Will, I’d be lying if I said I was _never_ jealous, not even the tiniest bit, when I’ve seen you with others. But we’re not in a relationship with each other—or, as far as I know, with anyone else right now.”

“Apparently _I_ am,” he couldn’t resist adding this with a wry grin.

Deanna threw him a glare. “It can be hard to keep up with your social calendar sometimes.” Her anger was back, and it drove him to take several steps back and give her wider berth. But like before, she also had the painful awareness that most of it was anger at herself for letting words out before she took the time to consider them. “She knows how I felt about you. Even among Betazoids, it would improper. There’s a universe of beings, and she picked the one that …” She wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence.

He shifted now, moving closer and resuming a seat on the edge of the desk. Turning to fully face her, he began, “I’m not indulging you in a fight. And for the record, Deanna, there’s only ever been one Troi that I was interested in pursuing romantically. Your mother is a beautiful person, and I think I have enough _experience_ in persons and beings to say that with some authority. Beautiful and entertaining that she may be, I have no interest in marrying her—even if it means risking offending the Fifth House or her never forgiving me for it.”

“We’ve both had plenty of our own experiences,” she concedes, gaze dropping to her lap at the admission. She smooths her hands down the front of her uniform

Will’s head tilted slightly as he watched her gather herself again. “I know you’ve counseled families on this ship—and other families before you joined the Enterprise. If a father, for example, were to meet with you about his child who was going through adolescence and was trying on new behaviors or amplifying behaviors, what would you say?”

Her breath left her in a short huff, and now she was the one leaning against the captain’s desk. “There are so many other variables I would need to know…”

“Deanna,” he pressed, eyebrows raising and his arms now crossing as he settled in for a more developed and professional response.

With a slight shake of her head, she finally answered, “I would talk about the physiological changes and the psychological shifts it can bring with it. And,” she added, seeing his eyes widen as he knew she understood his point, “I would encourage the parents to set clearer boundaries on appropriate behavior but also have some understanding that life cycle changes are just as challenging for the family as for the person experiencing them.” She rubbed her nose and gave another shake of her head. “I hate it when you do that.”

“I didn’t _do_ anything, I merely asked a question,” he protested, hands coming up surrender. He knew her too well to think she actually hated it.

“Thank you, Will,” she murmured, her hand reaching for his and giving it a gentle squeeze.

He took the moment to bend and press a kiss into her hair and then lifted her hand to his lips and dropped another across the knuckles. “Data’s going to be looking for me soon,” was his apology. With a nod to the sofa near the star port, he added, “Take your time to sort yourself out before you go back to the bridge. Hell, take a nap if you need to. I’ll inform Worf that you’re working on ship’s business and are going to take leave once you’re finished.”

She moved toward the sofa already, feeling every minute of the last day or so since Lwaxana Troi had beamed aboard. She wasn’t the only person trying to fix this now. And maybe her mother’s preoccupation with Will would at least keep her out of further trouble in the last half day before their arrival. For now, Deanna was willing to concede this round. She barely had time to curl up onto the sofa and offer a quiet “Thank you, Will,” before he responded with a “You’re welcome” and ordered the computer to cut the lights once the door closed. Everything else could wait. Between Will, the captain, and the Four Deities, at least she's no longer dealing with her mother alone.


End file.
